Some Things Are Better Dishevelled
by terminal insanity
Summary: UPDATED! 2nd CHAPTER UP! Fuji's Bdae fic. it's tezu x fuji. tezuka's life is about to change and he has no idea just how much. basically sneaky fuji, inui with a camera, and miscellaneous ppl eavesdropping.
1. chapter 1

Tezuka walked through his front door with a quietly uttered 'tadaima'. His mother was doing the laundry, as she usually did at this time of the day. He entered the kitchen to make something light to eat, as he usually did after returning home from school. He had no inkling that his day was about to turn as un-normal as it was ever going to get.

"Kikumaru-senpai, let's grab something to eat."

Eiji grinned and shrugged. Why not? But then Ryoma and Momoshiro smirked in unison and he sighed. How did they manage to do this to him on such a regular basis? He began to think that Fuji was giving them lessons on friendly manipulation.

"Senpai, treat your kouhai, ne?"

"Do I really have a choice?" He muttered under his breath as he threw his hands up in the air in exasperation. "Where do you want to go?" He asked them. He didn't really have to, since they usually ended up eating at the same place, but it was a courtesy, nonetheless.

They had barely made it five hundred metres from the school gates when they saw Inui by a lamppost, scribbling something into one of his notebooks. He muttered something inaudible and flipped the notebook shut, and then walked off.

"I wonder whose data he's collecting now," Eiji mused.

They smiled, three identical impish grins.

Tezuka wiped up what little, if there was really any at all, mess from the dining table and carried his dishes and cutlery to the sink. He ran some water over them to rinse them first, then washed them by hand. There was no need to trouble his mother any more that was strictly necessary. He had just finished setting the cutlery to dry, when his mother poked her head into the doorway.

"Ne, Kunimitsu? I'll be going to the store to buy some groceries. You'll be okay in the house by yourself?"

Tezuka almost smiled. His mother liked to ask that periodically, even though she was well aware that her son was as independent and capable of looking after himself as any teenager could possibly be.

"I'll be fine," he assured her, as he always did whenever she happened to ask that particular question.

She flashed him a smile and resisted the urge to ruffle his hair as she used to when he was younger. She understood that her mature son found it rather embarrassing and ridiculous and had ceased such habits long ago. He really was like his grandfather, she mused.

"I'll make your favourites for dinner," she gave him a tiny brush of a kiss on his cheek on impulse. The startled, though not unpleasantly so, look was reward enough even if he said nothing. Yes, very much like his grandfather, indeed.

After tailing Inui for approximately ten minutes without successfully spotting the bespectacled data-collector's quarry, Eiji and Momoshiro quickly lost their patience. Ryoma, on the other hand, having been brought up by one of the most trying men in Japan—possibly the world—had more than enough patience for a stakeout.

He watched in amusement and partial fascination as his two senpai stormed up to Inui, who was once again busy jotting down data. Ryoma followed behind them at a more sedate, leisurely pace. He greeted Inui briefly, aware that Inui probably wasn't even listening to him—how could he possibly be, when he was being barraged with questions from both Kikumaru-senpai _and_ Momo-senpai—and waited for Eiji and Momoshiro to pause in their interrogation so that Inui could reply.

Inui flipped his notebook shut in preparation to answer a few questions, and Ryoma caught the name appearing dominantly on one page.

"Inui-senpai, isn't that Fuji-senpai's data?"

Inui, glad that at least one of the three had the sense to let their eyes override their curiosity, nodded.

"What have you got?" Eiji tried to flip open the notebook, which Inui was still hold shut.

"Do you really think I'm going to let you look inside just like that?" Inui asked, one black brow arched.

Eiji sighed—he noticed that he seemed to be sighing a lot lately—and released the notebook. You never knew when Inui would unleash his next concoction, and it would be best not to anger him.

"Why are you following Fuji-senpai around?" Ryoma asked. The direct approach, he had noticed, seemed to work best on Inui.

Inui angled his head such that his glasses glinted ominously, and he grinned in a rather scary way. Ryoma fought the urge to back away. "Fuji has deviated in his normal habit. He doesn't usually take this route home." He continued walking, and they followed—like sheep, Ryoma thought briefly, led to the slaughter.

"In fact," Inui continued, pausing for effect. "This is the way to Tezuka's house."

"So he's going to Tezuka-buchou's house. What's so strange about that?"

"You'll see," Inui murmured cryptically. "I'm 100 sure that I'll gather some very interesting data today."

His glasses glinted eerily once more and he spun round, missing the triplicate of enormous sweatdrops his fellow Seigaku regulars produced—dehydration somehow didn't affect them too much.

Tezuka had switched on the water heater and was stripping out of his school uniform when he heard someone at the door. He frowned in annoyance and arranged his unbuttoned shirt so that it fell decently, coving his torso. He wondered who it was. Afternoons were usually quiet, since his mother didn't have visitors over very often and everyone knew that his father would be at work at this time of the day. He himself didn't invite his friends over much at all. As for his grandfather… Well, his grandfather wasn't even in town at the moment. Tawny hazel eyes narrowed—and when were they ever _not_—as he walked to the front door and opened it.

"Fuji?"

Tezuka blinked in surprise, unmoving. He stared at the gently smiling tensai like Fuji had suddenly grown three heads and four eyes.

"Can I come in?"

Snapped out of his shock, Tezuka moved aside and opened the door wider. "Of course." He saw Fuji glance briefly at him as he entered. "Is there anything you forgot to discuss with me at school today?" He asked, genuinely confused as to why Fuji would suddenly seek him out at home, when he usually did so in school. But then he remembered that Fuji never forgot anything.

"Well…" Fuji waited until Tezuka had shut the door. He was not going to give his buchou such an obvious escape route. Hell, he wasn't going to leave Tezuka _any_ escape route, if he could help it. "Mm, did I interrupt you in the middle of anything?" He said, his velvet voice modulated to flowing tones, as if he had suddenly noticed Tezuka's state of partial undress.

Tezuka blinked owlishly again. Fuji grinned inwardly. He loved that look Tezuka got on the rare occasions where he was completely befuddled. Fuji took a step towards him and casually flicked one side of his shirt aside. "Your shirt, Tezuka. Unless you habitually walk around your house half naked." He added, when Tezuka continued staring.

"I was about to take a shower."

"Ah, then I'm sorry for imposing on you at such an inopportune time." Fuji was glad that he was able to lie with such a sincere face. "Why don't you finish your shower first? I'll wait for you."

Oh _yes_, he'd wait.

"I wouldn't want to inconvenience you-"

Fuji sighed with mock exasperation. "Tezuka, I was the one who showed up unannounced. I _can_ wait." Well, he _had_ waited years. What was another half-hour or so?

Without waiting for a reply, Fuji gently nudged Tezuka in the direction of the bathroom. "Is it okay if I wait for you in your room?"

"I suppose so."

"Good." Fuji smiled a little wider and nudged Tezuka towards the bathroom once more when the team captain simply stood there, staring like Fuji had gone insane. He left Tezuka standing there, and headed for the buchou's room.

Fuji hadn't been inside Tezuka's room very often, but he'd actually been inside before, which was a feat in itself, since Tezuka didn't let just _anybody_ into his room. Tezuka was a neat freak, and it was evident by the immaculate state of his room. Everything seemed to be position at right angles to everything else, save the large radio next to one of his bookshelves. His bed was so smoothly made, it would have made housewives all over Japan weep with envy. Hell, even his pencils were lined up parallel to the edge of his study desk. Sometimes Fuji wondered if obsessive-compulsives started out this way.

Tezuka's window was shut, but he had several sheets of paper resting on his desk, and the last thing Fuji wanted to do was to have a gust of wind blow away something Tezuka was working on and ruin his plans. He removed his jacket, unbuttoning a few buttons on his shirt for added ventilation, and looked around the room, wondering where to wait.

He contemplated sitting on the bed, but it was so wondrously and scrupulously…neat that Fuji felt bad about messing it up. But then he smiled, his deep blue eyes partially open, and decided that perhaps some things were better off rumpled and somewhat dishevelled. He also decided that some people also needed a bit of tousling. He grinned and poked at the bedspread. There was a lovely dent in Tezuka's nicely made bed now.

Then Fuji leapt onto it.

And that was how Tezuka found him when he entered his room: sprawled out on his bed with careless grace, jacket discarded on his previously-empty floor, shirt partially open. Fuji's eyes were shut. But then again, they usually were, and Tezuka wasn't sure if Fuji was sleeping, or simply thinking.

"Fuji?" He received no reply. Then again, the tensai could simply have been very deep in thought. "Fuji?" He tried again, his voice louder. Fuji didn't even stir. Tezuka laid a hand on the sleeping tensai's shoulder, unsure whether to wake him or let him rest awhile. He was stunned when Fuji moaned in his sleep and pressed into his touch.

"Fu-Fuji?" He removed his hand as if he had touched a pot straight off the stove. Confusion set in when Fuji made a soft whimpering sigh from the loss of contact.

Tezuka sat down on the bed, beside Fuji, at odds with himself over what to do. The tensai flushed rose-pink and sucked in a deep breath, arching his throat. Tezuka blushed at the sight. His teammate was very obviously caught in the midst of a dream. And from the looks of it, a rather erotic one. Fuji moaned again and writhed sensuously against the bed, his lips parted in a gasp of pleasure. A lock of honey-hued brown hair fell across his flushed face and Tezuka found himself brushing that lock of hair away.

Fuji sighed at the gentle, hesitant touch. He seemed to settle down for a moment. Telling himself that he was doing it simply to ease Fuji's sleep, he continued touching the tensai's face. He trailed his fingers along an elegant jaw line, calloused thumb softly caressing Fuji's cheekbone. Tezuka traced the borders of his reddened lips, fighting the sudden urge he felt to lean over and press a soft kiss on them.

Fuji moved his lips against Tezuka's thumb, murmuring in his sleep. Tezuka wondered briefly how those lips would feel against his own. Before he even knew it, he was slowly, but surely, bending over the tensai. His kiss was almost chaste.

Almost.

Fuji hummed contentedly for a moment, then parted his lips in a blissful sigh. And then, he began to kiss Tezuka back. Tezuka opened his eyes in surprise—later, when he reflected on the day, he would realise just how many surprises he had gotten throughout the day—and found Fuji staring back at him, sapphire eyes heavy-lidded and pupils widely dilated. He tried to pull away, but found that he couldn't. Fuji wrapped his arms around Tezuka's neck and locked his legs around the stunned buchou's waist, effectively pinning Tezuka to him.

Tezuka mused absently that he'd forgotten how fast Fuji could be, and how much strength the tensai concealed within his slender frame.

And as suddenly as Fuji had locked Tezuka in his embrace, he managed to manoeuvre Tezuka beneath him. On his knees and straddling Tezuka's hips, he pulled away a fraction of an inch and whispered into his ear.

"You aren't getting away so easily, Tezuka." Then he sucked sensuously on his buchou's lower lip. "But I'll let you try anyway, if you want to," he added.

"I thought you were asleep," Tezuka said, wincing inwardly at how inane that sounded.

"Mm, so you thought to help yourself to me while I was unconscious?" Fuji lowered himself onto Tezuka. "How very unlike you." He trailed butterfly kisses down one side of Tezuka's jaw. "That's what it felt like you were doing," Fuji told him in a heated whisper. "When you were touching me." His tongue flitted out just to touch Tezuka's upper lip, then darted away. "When you wanted to kiss me."

"You were awake?" Tezuka wondered how he managed so speak with such coherence when he was barely able to think.

"Did you think that I was asleep?" Fuji silenced Tezuka's would-be answer with a demanding kiss and rubbed his body slowly against Tezuka's. "It's times like this that I prefer you silent."

He broke the hard kiss and made his way down to Tezuka's neck with a trail of tiny nips and soothing kisses. He heard the buchou's breaths come in rapid pants and smiled felinely. "You know, I couldn't decide, at first, whether to surprise you in the shower, or to just wait and let you come to me." He scraped his teeth over Tezuka's pulse, enjoying the shudder than ran through the tense length of his team captain's body. "The second held more appeal, in the end."

Tezuka never noticed when his had come to curl around Fuji. But he found one hand stroking the skin of Fuji's back, and the other tangled in fawn-brown hair. Fuji blew a moist breath over the spot he was currently focused on, then sucked on the patch of skin. Tezuka barely heard him speak as Fuji paused.

"Just to let you know, had my other idea won out, I would have licked you dry."

Tezuka Groaned at the wave of intense images that assailed his already overheated mind. "What did I do to piss you off?"

"Hm? You think that I'm punishing you?"

"Well, you're torturing me, aren't you?" Tezuka muttered dryly—which was amazing, considering the circumstances.

"Mm, Tezuka, you'll _know_ it, if I decide to punish you a bit." He bit down lightly. "And you'll _love_ it." He chuckled softly at the sharp gasp that he had wrung out from Tezuka.

"Well, we've reached buchou's house. Now what do we do?" Eiji asked Inui, who had stopped to jot down more notes. Eiji couldn't think of what Inui could find so useful in simply arriving at Tezuka's house.

"Let's go inside."

"Ano, isn't that trespassing, Inui-senpai?"

"Buchou won't be very pleased if he finds us sneaking into his house simply because Fuji-senpai was walking in this direction," Momoshiro added.

"I don't think he'll notice."

"Huh?" Momoshiro tilted his head to one side in confusion. How could Tezuka _not_ notice? The captain had eyes like a hawk. He saw everything. _Everything_.

"I have a feeling that Fuji's keeping him very well…occupied." Inui stopped at that and said nothing else as he entered the threshold of the garden. Behind him, Eiji, Momoshiro and Ryoma were still deciding if assuaging their curiosity was worth the thousands of laps that Tezuka would surely make them run when he caught them.

Inui looked around the garden, then inside the window. Neither Tezuka nor Fuji was in sight. But Fuji's shoes were there by the door in plain sight. He was somewhere in the house. He tested the doorknob—not that he expected it to give, for the likelihood of that happening was only about 7, but simply to make sure he didn't waste his time exploring other methods of entry when an easier one was right there.

The knob turned and he was able to open the door.

"It's not locked? Tezuka always messes up my calculations," Inui mused, and jotted the observation down.

Apparently, seeing Inui open the front door was too much, for his three teammates were instantly beside him. Eiji peered around Inui and into the house. "Eh? No one's home."

"Of course they're here," Inui replied. "Fuji's shoes are just over there, and Tezuka's shoes are on the shoe rack."

"But if he's home, then why are we sneaking in? Shouldn't we just knock on the door and let him answer it?"

"Because he won't hear you."

Eiji was getting rather annoyed at Inui's cryptic remarks. None of them made any sense to him!

Inui reached into his pocket and drew out a slim metal case. On further inspection, it proved to be a very new digital camera. "Small and very good for getting data," he told them. "Although it's not as good for video than my camcorder."

"Then why not use your camcorder?" Momoshiro asked.

Inui raised one thick brow and smiled eerily. "Because for this, I think a video might be a bit much. Photos would be better." _And safer_, he thought. "And this has better photo quality than a camcorder."

"Ah," Momoshiro said, still not quite getting it.

"Actually, now that I think about it, I don't really think Echizen is old enough for this."

"For breaking and entering?" Ryoma snorted.

"No."

"Then what?"

His glasses glinted in that scary way again and Ryoma barely managed to suppress a shudder from the feeling of sudden dread that he felt. "You'll see."

"I thought you said that I wasn't old enough?" He muttered.

Inui shrugged nonchalantly and adjusted his thick-rimmed glasses. "It makes no difference since you're already here. Your data says that the chances of me managing to get you to go home is 0."

They removed their shoes and entered Tezuka's house.

"Mm, Tezuka, you look so delicious when you're all red like this," Fuji murmured. He flicked his tongue over one flat nipple and felt it harden instantly. Tezuka squirmed incessantly beneath him. "I never figured you for a squirmer, but I think I like it." He sucked the firm nub into his mouth and bathed it in warm heat.

"Fuji!" Tezaka cried out as pleasure arrowed through him like a bolt of lightning. He was beyond all rational thought now, and he found that he didn't particularly care. His body was so sensitive and the sensations so intense that he was torn between having Fuji stop and continue whatever it is he was doing.

"You're so sensitive, Tezuka." Fuji rubbed his lips against the spit-slick nipple and was rewarded with a shuddering gasp. His fingers toyed idly with its mate. "More so that I'd thought."

Fuji paused a moment in his ministrations to gaze at Tezuka. His buchou's—and he didn't doubt for a moment that Tezuka was his and his alone—face was flushed a deep crimson, his spiky hair lying haphazardly over his pillow, body laid out wantonly for Fuji to do whatever he wanted. There was a dark, plum-coloured patch high up on his neck where Fuji had marked him earlier. He wondered with some amusement how Tezuka would react to it once he regained his senses and realised that the school collar was _not_ going to hide it.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered tenderly and planted a small, lingering kiss on Tezuka's flushed cheekbone. He felt Tezuka play with his hair and smiled a genuine smile. "Ne, Tezuka?"

"What, you _want_ me to talk now?"

"Was that your first attempt at a joke?" Fuji grinned and nuzzled his neck, licking the small love bite. "Yes, I want you to talk now."

Tezuka could hear the seriousness in Fuji's voice and murmured, "What is it?"

"I…" Fuji shook his head slightly. "It's nothing. Don't worry about it."

"Fuji…" Fuji heard the stern tone of voice that signalled that the buchou was coming to his senses and sighed. "I changed my mind. Don't worry about it."

"Are you sure you're not a girl? You're starting to act like one," Tezuka remarked wryly.

Lapis eyes snapped open and pierced him with an intense gaze. Fuji smiled slyly and undulated his hip against Tezuka's. "Mm, I would have thought that you'd learnt the difference between little girls and little boys by now." He brought his lips close to Tezuka's ear and whispered in a voice designed to melt stone—and stone hearts. "Do I feel like a girl?"

Tezuka shivered from the sensations Fuji was creating. "Well, your skin is so soft…"

Fuji grabbed Tezuka's wrist and slid it down their bodies. "Oh, then I suppose girls have this?"

Tezuka was getting better and guessing Fuji's moods and understanding the little game they were currently involved in. He slowed the progress of their hands and entwined their fingers together. Then he slowly caressed the length of Fuji's torso. The tensai pressed against him in half-hearted protest.

"Tezuka…what-"

Tezuka flitted his fingers over Fuji's hip, then traced the shallow depression down to where Fuji was busy thrusting against him. He stroked with elegant, slender fingers, and with a very un-buchou-like smile, curled his fingers around Fuji.

"Tezuka!"

"Not a girl," Tezuka whispered, greatly satisfied at Fuji's response. He kissed Fuji on the lips. "Definitely not a girl."

"Inui, there's nobody here!" Eiji grumbled.

"We've only checked the living room, dining room, and kitchen."

"Tezuka will catch us if we stay here too long!" Eiji crossed his arms across his chest. "I'm fine if you want to end up running ten thousand laps, but I would rather not have my legs fall off, nya!"

"Depending on Fuji, Tezuka might either be in an incredibly good mood, or a horrendously bad one."

Eiji looked a bit worried. "Did something bad happen?"

"Why would you think that?" Inui asked. He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and made a brief scan of the bathroom.

"Didn't you just say that Fujiko had to tell Tezuka something?"

"No." Inui glanced at the bathroom floor. "Hm, it's wet."

"So? Careful, or you might slip and fall." He widened his eyes in mock horror. "Inui, I just sounded like Oishi!"

Inui smiled. "Hai. Ii data…" Then he laughed. Sort of. "Tezuka must have had a shower. Although, from the looks of it, I'd say he had one _alone_."

"Hoi? Who else would join him? Tezuka doesn't keep pets." He turned to Ryoma, who was lounging against a wall, starting to get bored, but unwilling to go home. "Ne, Echizen, does your cat like to join you in the bath?"

Ryoma raised one brow in amusement and disbelief. He tilted his cap to shield his face and snorted. "Kikumaru-senpai, that's a ridiculous question. Do you have any idea how hard it is to give Karupin a bath?" He shrugged slightly. "He does wander inside the bathroom sometimes, though."

Inui valiantly resisted the urge to slap his forehead. Eiji was a bright kid. He hardly paid attention during his classes, but was somehow able to still do fairly well—or perhaps that could be attributed to Fuji helping him—so that meant that he was hardly stupid. But sometimes…

"Well, we haven't checked Tezuka's room yet," Inui reminded them. "The probability of him being inside is very high. Around…98.6."

Momoshiro's face was contorted in disbelief. "And you want to go inside? Knowing that he's probably inside? Inui-senpai, you've got to be kidding!"

"For the sake of collecting data…" He whipped out his camera, trusting his memory to mentally record any and all pertinent data so as to leave his hands free to take photographs to add to the data that he would write down. Pictures _were_ said to be worth a thousand words.

He placed his hand on the knob and turned his head to face Momoshiro. "I think you should stand beside Echizen, just in case…"

"In case of what?"

"You'll know," Inui replied, ever-cryptic.

"Nya, I have a very bad feeling about this…" Eiji sighed a moment before Inui turned the knob.

"Shh!" Inui hissed before silently opening the door large enough for his camera to get a good view of Tezuka's room. He managed to get Eiji to stand in front of Momoshiro and cover said kouhai's ears, who in turn shielded the room from Ryoma's view and covered the ichinen's ears from all noises coming from within the room.

Eiji looked away—since he couldn't move, for that would leave Momoshiro's eyes uncovered, and he _knew_ that Momo would absolutely freeze in shock, too stunned to move—his cheeks burning with colour. Unfortunately for him, his hands were too busy covering Momoshiro's ears to cover his own.

"Inui, if you don't hurry up and close that door, I _will_ kill you, nya!" He hissed, blushing furiously.

"Hai." Inui snapped away, muttering "ii data" as he took picture after picture with a rather evil smile on his face.

Then he carefully shut the door, making sure that he made no sound, before dragging Eiji—and hence, Momoshiro and Echizen—back the way they had come. He made sure to leave everything as it was, since he knew Tezuka could and _would_ notice if the slightest thing was out of place. And then they ran.

"They'regonnakillusthey'regonnakillusthey'regonnakillus."

"Momoshiro, they didn't even _see_ us."

"Inui-senpai, this is Fuji-senpai and Tezuka-buchou we're talking about. They don't _have_ to see us!"

"Nya! I'm too young to die!"

Ryoma was too stunned to say anything. He hadn't seen anything nor heard anything, since Momoshiro was too tall and had hands too large for him to see or hear anything, but he had an imagination and was using it to its full capability.

_Buchou and Fuji-senpai? They were…_ When the shock finally wore off, he was appalled to find one thought nagging at him. _I wonder who was the seme?_

"Tezuka! Oh God, oh God." Fuji bit his lower lip to keep from screaming.

Tezuka arched his head back into the pillow, neck exposed and extremely vulnerable. Fuji's love bite was a livid burgundy stain against the pale column of his neck. "Please, Fuji, oh God, this is too much!" He crushed his lips against Fuji's forcing the tensai to release his lip. "Fuji!"

Their bodies clashed in a heated frenzy, limbs and bodies entwined. They mated in a fiery conflagration of passion and lust and, unbeknownst to perhaps both of them, love. Fuji shuddered and screamed Tezuka's name a heartbeat before Tezuka cried out for Fuji. And when they were spent, Fuji collapsed bonelessly onto Tezuka, who caught him in an impossibly tender embrace.

He shifted them onto their sides and Fuji drew him closer. He murmured his lover's name, then kissed him lovingly.

"Tezuka," Fuji murmured. "I- You- I mean, we-" He smiled serenely and buried his face in the sweat-damp locks of Tezuka's hair. "That was beyond words."

"You really _are_ a tensai in everything, aren't you?" Tezuka ran his fingers idly through Fuji's equally damp hair. "You almost killed me." His eyes drifted shut.

"Mm, I did, did I?" Tezuka's hair was all over the place, he mused. Some things were _sooo_ nice disheveled. He moved against Tezuka absently and felt Tezuka stir. "Feels so good…"

"You can't _still_ be able to move," Tezuka muttered.

Fuji ground his hips sensually against Tezuka's if only to prove his buchou wrong. "Yes, I can."

"Well, I'm going to sleep, even if you aren't."

"Mm, tempting as it sounds to do whatever I want with you, I think I'll join you." Fuji snuggled closer, if that was possible at all, to Tezuka.

Tezuka had just enough energy to throw the blanket over their bodies before he succumbed to slumber. Arms wrapped around each other, they fell asleep, still joined both physically and spiritually.

A/N:

OMG. I didn't even mean for it to come out as a yaoi fic! Honest! I was gonna do a simple, short shounen-ai piece with loads of fluff, a few laughs, and just innuendo, but… This fic just wrote itself. This plot (plot, what plot? You say?) came up during an MSN chat with a few fellow cosplayers. It started off with the group's Tezuka cosplayer going to take a bath. She took long enough for me and Marui to wonder if perhaps Fuji had intercepted dear Tezuka. And from there on, the camera and photograph bits simply added themselves into our convo. What can I say? We're fangirls.

This is my birthday fic to dear Fuji. His birthday might not truly fall on any day this year, but that simply means that we can celebrate it on both the 28th of Feb _and_ the 1st of March, right? So happy birthday, Fuji. Sweet dreams, ne? (with Tezuka next to you, how can you _not_?) As for Ryoma's question as to who the seme was, I'm not telling. If you noticed, it's possible for either of them to be seme. Hah! Imagination is a powerful tool, ladies and gentlemen. Let yours run wild.

And now, I am going to sleep. It's almost 4 in the bloody morning, and I've spent a good portion of the night and the morning typing this out. I've had less than an average of 6 hours of sleep per night for the past week, and I'm gonna go catch up now. It's my one-week study break, so I need, firstly, to be awake enough to study. Hence the sleep. Why am I still typing? () Oyasuminasai, minna-san. I hope you enjoyed this as much as Fuji and Tezuka did (and possibly Inui). Omg, that came out _so_ wrong. () Haha, well, I'm sure you know what I mean. And if you don't, well, too bad, 'cause I'm going to sleep now. Bye.


	2. chapter 2

Tezuka had never missed his stop. Even if he fell asleep on the bus on the way home, he was somehow always able to wake up before reaching his stop. Perhaps it was some internal alarm clock that saved him from having to double back and waste precious time when he could have been doing something more productive. It was this internalized alarm system that jerked him out of sleep that late afternoon.

He blinked sleepily, grimacing as a thin arrow of sunlight slipped through his curtains and into his eyes. Morning? It seemed the wrong shade to be morning light. He stretched, and encountered a warm body curled up beside him. Stiffening, he shifted slightly and found himself staring at a halo of gleaming honey-brown hair. Then he relaxed slightly, running his fingers through the silken strands.

"Fuji…" He touched a fingertip to the sleeping tensai's cheek and heard the small sigh of contentment and Fuji pressed closer to him. "I'll be back in awhile," he murmured, not caring that his lover was asleep and most likely couldn't hear him anyway.

He yanked on his school pants, zipping it just enough so that it wouldn't fall of his hips, then left his room. Even as he wondered what had woken him up and was causing him to walk out of his room, he remembered that in his surprise over Fuji's impromptu visit, he had forgotten to lock the front door. His mother would be extremely worried if she came home to an unlocked door.

_His mother_.

He had to wake Fuji up before his mother got home. He thanked the heavens that he'd woken up before his mother had returned from her grocery shopping. He couldn't imagine what would happen if she had found him in bed with another boy. Naked and intimately entwined in the arms of another boy as they slept in the aftermath of a very sweaty bout of sex.

He locked the front door and returned to his room. Once back inside, he sat down on the corner of his bed. Suddenly at a loss for words, he didn't know what to do. He knew he had to wake Fuji up, but then what? He'd never been particularly good with words. He got up, paced a bit, then sat back down, a little closer to Fuji. The shift in the mattress stirred the tensai from sleep and Fuji reluctantly roused himself from his dreams.

"Mm, Tezuka?" Fuji stretched felinely, the covers slipping down his slender body in the process. "I didn't notice you get up."

"I remembered that I left the front door unlocked."

"And that wouldn't be safe at all, would it?" Fuji said smiling as he sat up in bed, his golden-brown hair glowing in the gentle evening rays. "Come back to bed and wake me up properly."

"Fuji, my mother will be back soon." The soft smile faded, and Tezuka was astonished to find his heart aching slightly at the loss.

"Right, I'd forgotten. I'm sorry." Fuji reached up to smooth the tangles from his hair. He slid out from beneath the plain blue-and-green-striped blanket and searched for his clothes from the articles strewn all about Tezuka's usually neat room. He had located his pants and was tugging them on when Tezuka yanked him back.

He lost his balance—and with his pants still around his knees, there was no way he was staying on his feet—and fell back onto the bed. His breath escaped his lungs in a loud puff.

"Tezuka, what are you-" He was silenced by a pair of warm lips descending onto his.

Slowly, Fuji wrapped his arms around Tezuka's neck, holding the buchou close while they kissed. Tezuka pulled away slowly, his breath coming in gentle pants against Fuji's cheek.

"Waking you up properly," Tezuka replied, before continuing to kiss Fuji senseless.

It was over an hour more before they were showered and dressed—Fuji in borrowed clothes, since Tezuka refused to let him wear his rumpled uniform—and presentable. Tezuka's clothes were a little bit too big for Fuji, but it sent a delicious shudder up Tezuka's spine to see Fuji in his clothes. The sleeves of his shirt brushed the tensai's fingertips gently, the pants hanging low on Fuji's slender hips—Tezuka wondered, if he gave a firm enough tug, if they would slide off. Then the tensai bent down to pack keep his things. Tezuka found himself staring at Fuji's butt. He really had a nice behind, Tezuka mused.

Fuji had folded his clothes and was carefully packing them into his bag when they heard a rattle of keys, followed by the front door being unlocked.

"Ah, Tezuka, your mother's home." He zipped his bag shut and stood up. "I guess I should leave now." He kissed Tezuka tenderly on the lips. "I'll see you tomorrow at school."

He met Tezuka's mother in the corridor, with Tezuka just shutting his room door behind him as he followed Fuji out.

"Fuji-kun?"

Fuji smiled pleasantly at the woman. "I was just leaving, Tezuka-san."

Tezuka's mother smiled back—it was quite hard not to, really—and said, "It's quite late. Why don't you stay for dinner?"

Shaking his head, Fuji politely refused. "I don't want to be any trouble. Besides, my mother is already preparing dinner at home. But thank you for your offer."

He opened the front door, then turned back to Tezuka and his mother with a small wave. "Bye, Tezuka, I'll see you tomorrow." Then he left, shutting the door with barely a sound.

"He's such a nice boy, Kunimitsu. You should invite your friends over more often."

"Do you need help with those groceries?" Tezuka said, avoiding the topic completely. Without waiting for a reply, he took the heavy bags from his mother and walked to the kitchen.

His mother watched with amusement as he disappeared into the kitchen without a word. She decided not the say anything about the fact that Fuji had left wearing clothes she recalled ironing just the day before. Her little boy was growing up so fast.

Inui linked his camera to his computer and started uploading the pictures. He was pleased to have acquired such interesting data. A soft 'bleep' indicated that all files had been uploaded successfully. He detached the camera from its cable and returned it to its protective case. The cable was also removed from the USB port and neatly wound, before being stored beside the digital camera. And then Inui turned back to his computer, scanning through the picture files with an almost evil glint in his eyes.

"Sadaharu, dinner is ready!" His mother called from behind the closed door.

He closed the program window and put his computer on standby. "Hai, kaa-san," he replied, shutting off his monitor.

Come the following training session, the tennis club was amazed to find their buchou in such an amiable mood. He was just as talkative as ever—which wasn't much—and there was no deviation to his facial expressions, but there was a big change in his mood. For example, Echizen being Echizen, was late for practice, and Tezuka merely leveled him with a stern look and a warning not to be late the next time. Not a single lap handed out!

Tezuka cast a wary eye around the tennis courts. A few of the regular were acting rather…strange. For example, after he'd generously let Echizen off lightly for arriving late, the dark-haired boy had given him an odd look, before scrutinizing him behind his back. Tezuka had actually been able to feel that intense visual examination. He'd broken up a fight between Momoshiro and Kaidoh and gotten them to run twenty laps each—Fuji's influence didn't stretch _that_ far—and the former had refused to look him straight in the eyes.

Halfway during practice, Kikumaru had leapt a bit too far off court. He'd returned the ball, as well as scored a point, but the energetic redhead had also managed to land right before Tezuka's feet. In a movement almost as quick as his Seal Step, Kikumaru was scrambling away as fast as his hands and feet would take him. Tezuka wondered if Inui had spiked their water bottles. Again. He was going to have to have a talk with Seigaku's data collector about putting mysterious—and often marginally lethal—concoctions in the Regulars' water supply.

Tezuka dismissed the club members from practice, holding back only the Regulars for a post-training meeting. Even as he spoke, he studied his teammates closely. Kawamura was his normal, placid self, having propped his racket by the fence. Oishi, as ever, stood straight, listening attentively to whatever he had to say. Kaidoh was scowling slightly—but then again, when was he ever not?—his posture somewhat slumped. Tezuka made a mental note to discuss that with Inui. Bad posture was something to be corrected as soon as possible in anyone's life. Fuji—ah, Fuji—was smiling, as he almost always was. The tensai noticed Tezuka's brief glance and his smile widened fractionally, just enough to le the buchou know that he'd been caught staring.

And that was where normality ended.

Eiji was usually grinning and radiating energy. He still was—radiating energy, that is—but it was energy of the extremely nervous kind. It was as if the acrobatics player couldn't wait to get out of the courts and away from Tezuka. Every now and again, he'd cast Tezuka an anxious glance, only to look away when Tezuka happened to notice. Momoshiro was another one. Except that it was as if the second-year student was trying _not_ to look, but couldn't seem to help it anyway. Echizen had his cap brim tugged all the way down, and all you could see, really, was a dark shadow where his face ought to be. But one could positively _feel_ the golden-eyed kid's piercing stare.

As for Inui… Well, it was always difficult to tell what was going on in Inui's head. Almost as difficult as trying to figure Fuji out. Tezuka had stopped trying to do either a long time ago. Inui concealed many things behind those oddly opaque glasses of his. You could usually got only one kind of expression from him—sadistic glee. It often manifested as an eerie glint of light from his lenses. There was no glint today, as Tezuka stood there briefing them on events to come, but there was a faintly noticeable aura shimmering around him. It was…creepy, to say the least. Tezuka hoped that his apprehension wasn't showing on his face.

After a minute or so, it was too much for him to take, and he dismissed his teammates. Kikumaru almost tripped over his own feet trying to sprint out. Tezuka thought briefly that if he ran like that whenever Inui made his horrible penal-tea, there would be no question as to who would come in first. Echizen sauntered out coolly, face still hidden, but when a stray ray of sunlight filtered through one of the nearby trees and struck his face, Tezuka thought he saw a faint blush covering the ichinen's cheeks.

Really, what on earth had Inui done to them?

It had been a week since Fuji had paid him that fateful surprise visit. Tezuka had tried not to make it so conspicuous, but he knew that the entire tennis club knew that he was now always walking Fuji home. Or sometimes it was the other way round. This time, they were heading to Fuji's house.

He had told his mother before leaving for school that morning that Fuji was going to help him with some homework. His mother, ever-accommodating and ever trusting of her only child, had agree with a smile. He felt horrible about lying to her like that, but frankly, it was the only idea he could think of that would justify him going to Fuji's house so often when the tensai was also frequently coming over as well. Besides, Fuji was well known to be a genius on the court as well as in the classroom. Fuji tutoring him was a plausible story.

_Fuji's also a genius in bed._

Tezuka gave his head a small, firm shake, wondering just where that errant thought had come from. Not that it wasn't true. It was just that he had never been the sort to think things like that.

"Mm, Tezuka, what are you thinking about?"

The sound of Fuji's melted-chocolate voice broke through his thoughts, and he inclined his head slightly to one side to let Fuji know that he'd heard him.

"You were frowning," Fuji said, as a means of explanation.

"Ah." Tezuka shrugged faintly. "You," he said, after a long while.

"Hm?" Fuji gave him a small puzzled smile.

"You," Tezuka repeated. His voice softer, he continued, "I was thinking about you."

Shut eyes snapped open in surprise at his admission, revealing stunned blue. Then Fuji smiled, his eyes still open. He gave Tezuka a chaste kiss on one cheek. "That was sweet of you." With his free hand, he casually entwined their fingers together. Tezuka, not quite understanding what Fuji had found so 'sweet' about his admitting the truth, didn't move. Fuji gave his hand a gentle tug. "Ne, Tezuka, weren't we going over to my house?

Tezuka started, then he gave Fuji a mildly embarrassed look. "Only you, Fuji. Only _you_ do this to me."

"You say such lovely things. Now let's hurry up. You ought to go home at a decent time later."

Tezuka arched one elegant brow. "It's not even three." The look Fuji gave him was pure, lascivious evil.

"Exactly."

Yuuta unlocked the front door of his house. He needed to grab a few things that he had forgotten during his last visit home. And he just missed his house. And his brother.

He knew he often said otherwise, but truthfully, the moment he had left Seigaku for Saint Rudolph, he'd felt the loss of his brother like a punch to the heart. Syuusuke had always been there. No matter what the occasion, even when he was annoyed that his elder brother was constantly hovering over him, Syuusuke had always been by his side. And even while he'd chafed while in the Seigaku tennis club, he'd also been proud to be the tensai Fuji's little brother.

What had been the last straw was that it was the only name by which they knew him. Tensai Fuji no otoutou. The genius's little brother. Yuuta! His name was _Yuuta_! And no matter how hard he tried, he'd never truly been able to block out the whispering that went on behind his back. Like his brother, Yuuta didn't miss much. He wasn't a genius—their family only had one, and it was definitely Syuusuke—but he _was_ observant.

You didn't grow up the younger brother of a much-envied genius without becoming _very_ observant.

It had seemed like the perfect opportunity when Mizuki had shown up, asking him to join Saint Rudolph. Yuuta had barely even given it much thought before he heard himself saying 'yes'. It wasn't that he regretted leaving Seigaku. He was enjoying himself quite a bit over at St. Pudolph. It was wonderfully refreshing to be able to go to school without ever being compared to Syuusuke. And most knew never to refer to him as Seigaku Fuji's little brother. Only the occasional foolish ones slipped and called him that. He always 'reminded' them never, _ever_ to do so again.

He wondered if Syuusuke was home. He might have after-school practice today. Then he saw his brother's shoes placed neatly by the door. Just by the periphery of the doorframe was a second pair of shoes. His brother had brought home a visitor? Yuuta sighed. It would seem that he'd chosen the wrong time to come home. He could hardly expect to spend some non-time (non-time because Yuuta knew that he would spend every minute of it protesting his brother's company, while enjoying it at the same time) with his brother if Syuusuke had a friend over.

He decided to just take what he had come for a leave. He could come back another day, when his aniki wasn't busy.

His room was just one room away from his brother's. They shared the bathroom that was located between their rooms.

He was removing a bottle of conditioner from the cabinet beneath the sink when he heard soft laughter. Curious, he left the bottle in the cabinet and headed for his brother's door. Not caring that he was eavesdropping—after all, that was what little brothers did—he pressed his ear to the door.

"Fuji? What is that?" He heard. It sounded like Seigaku's buchou, Tezuka Kunimitsu. Intrigued, he breathed as silently as possible, in the hopes of being able to hear better.

"What does it look like, Tezuka?" Yuuta blinked in surprise. That sounded like his brother. When Syuusuke was not very pleased. He wondered just what Tezuka had done to put his aniki in such a mood.

"Truthfully? It looks like it would hurt." The low chuckle that he heard was _not_ a happy sound.

"Remember that time, when you asked if I was punishing you?" Another soft laugh. "I told you that when I did, you would know." There was silence. And then he spoke so softly that Yuuta could barely hear him. In a deep, purring voice, Fuji said, "And I also said that you would _love _it."

Yuuta blinked owlishly. He had come home at a _very_ bad time, it would seem. Apparently, Tezuka wasn't just Seigaku's buchou, he was _Fuji Syuusuke's_ buchou. He wanted to just leave his brother to his odd antics, but found that he couldn't peel himself away from the door. Just what _was_ his brother going to do to Tezuka? He heard a harsh gasp and menacing laughter. Then a drawn-out groan. Yuuta turned a deep shade of crimson.

_Have to get away. Why can't I make myself leave before aniki finds me?_

"Fuji," he heard Tezuka pant. "You- I-" There was a pause. "Damn you, Fuji!" Tezuka growled in frustration.

_Ohdearohdearohdear…_

"Begging already, Tezuka? We've barely even started."

"I'm not begging, dammit, but trust me, Fuji, after _this_, you will be."

"I'm so scared, Tezuka." Yuuta could practically _hear_ his brother's patented 'I'm-such-a-sadist' smile. "Tied up like that, I'm sure you can understand why I'd be so terrified."

Tied up? Tezuka was…tied up?

"Be prepared to scream, Fuji. When you're done with me, I'll make you scream so loud, the neighbours would think that a murder was taking place."

Yuuta pressed a hand to his forehead and raised his eyes heavenward. Why, oh _why_, had he chosen, of all days, _today_ to come home. And now, his own body wasn't responding to his demand that he disappear before things got _really_ graphic.

"Oh, God, Fuji! That _stings_!"

"Mm, maybe if you're a good boy, I'll kiss it better later."

As the time passed, Yuuta heard many different sounds coming from his brother's room. There was a muffled shriek of outrage, then a suppressed hiss of fury, several threats issued from behind gritted teeth. And then, finally, silence. Yuuta wondered if his brother had killed Tezuka. And then he heard a low, almost sobbing moan.

Or maybe Syuusuke had simply tortured Tezuka into partial unconsciousness.

Yuuta shuddered at what could have made Seigaku's stoic and solemn team captain make such sounds. His brother was _very_ scary, indeed. Yuuta was glad that all that terrifying tensai prowess had never been turned his way before. Rather, Syuusuke had always been the one to protect him, use his genius to take on even the most intimidating of foes. All for Yuuta. The little brother he loved so much. The little brother who acted like he couldn't stand to have Syuusuke be part of his life. But something told him that Syuusuke had always know that.

That it was all an act.

Yuuta didn't have any real proof of that, but it was something that he had always been aware of. That possibility that his brother knew. Then his thoughts were broken by a pleading sigh.

Right. He was here, now, in his own home, where his elder brother was apparently torturing another guy, who just so happened to be said brother's tennis captain. With great effort, Yuuta finally managed to scrape himself off the door. Forgetting all about the bottle of hair conditioner in the bathroom cabinet, he raced out of the house as fast as his legs could carry him, intent only on escaping his freakishly strange brother.

_I refuse to be witness to a murder. _He paused for a moment in thought, even if his legs didn't slow down one bit. _Or anything else, for that matter._

Fuji stroked the tip of the riding crop down Tezuka's bare chest. He watched with satisfaction as Tezuka shuddered, hissing from the intensity of the sensations. Hands tied above his head to fixtures Fuji had installed for this purpose alone, and legs spread-eagled, Tezuka was laid out for him to enjoy. Not that Tezuka wasn't enjoying himself as well. In fact, Fuji could very safely say that Tezuka was have just as much fun as he was.

The leather tip dipped shallowly into Tezuka's navel, and Fuji swirled it gently, absently, watching the flush grow on Tezuka's cheeks. One day, Fuji decided, he was going to have to take a picture of Tezuka like this. His lover was a _very_ beautiful specimen of youthful masculinity when caught in the throes of erotic arousal. In fact…

"Mm, Tezuka, be good and don't move, and I'll reward you when this is over, ne?" He whispered, lips caressing the rim of Tezuka's ear as he spoke. He only reply a harsh panting and a whisper of his name.

He strode, naked, to where he stored his cameras, and retrieved the digital camera that he'd gotten for his last birthday from his parents—never mind that his birthday hadn't really occurred that year. Digital cameras were _very_ handy, since there was no film that would need processing and hence, no inquisitive store clerks that would get the shock of their lives when developing the film. He flicked the switch on and turned the dial to the camera function.

He tossed the crop onto the bed, where it landed just mere millimeters away from where it really have hurt, and looked at the little LCD screen. He captured one picture, and then another, and yet another, snapping photograph after photograph until he was satisfied. He switched the camera off, hastily kept it where it wouldn't be found until he had time to transfer the photos to disc, and then returned to Tezuka's side.

Tezuka hadn't opened his eyes the entire time, and hadn't known that Fuji had been taking pictures, and he was surprised when he felt Fuji's hand, Fuji's warm touch, smoothing damp hair back from his face.

"You're so beautiful, you know that, Kunimitsu?" Fuji breathed, unable to take his eyes off Tezuka. He stared into hazel eyes, letting himself get lost in their glowing depths for a moment, before straddling his lover and kissing Tezuka tenderly.

Fuji slid himself against Tezuka, sighing with contentment as waves of pleasure washed over him with each pass. Then the slow glides became forceful thrusts that grew increasingly frenzied with each movement.

"Fuji, please… Please…" Tezuka's breath caught in his throat as Fuji scraped his teeth over a dark love bite that he had made earlier. "Make love to me, please…Syuusuke."

With a soft cry, Fuji captured Tezuka's lips in a hard, demanding kiss. It was a furious duel, where tongues were the weapons and it didn't matter who won, in the end, because neither side lost.

"You don't have to ask, 'Mitsu, punishment's over. Playtime's just begun." He trailed one hand teasingly down the side of Tezuka's body to where his hipbone jutted out, then dragged his fingertips lightly back up.

"You're such a tease," Tezuka gasped.

Fuji tweaked a pebble-hard nipple between his fingers, then tugged gently. "There's a difference: A tease doesn't intend on finishing anything." He lapped delicately at its twin. "_I_ do." Then he toyed with it with his teeth.

Tezuka arched back, writhing wildly and sensations exploded inside him like a shipload of fireworks. He was incapable of speech, of sound, and his lips were parted in a silent scream.

Fuji slyly repeated his actions with the other nipple, a gleam evident in his eyes as he reached down and gripped Tezuka tightly at his base. After all, it wouldn't do for the fun to end so quickly. When he was sure that Tezuka wouldn't be finishing anything be fore him, he loosened his grip and began stroking with a feather-light touch.

"You're going to kill me," Tezuka managed, his voice strained.

"I promise I won't," Fuji drawled. "I'm not into necrophilia. Although if it was you I might actually be tempted to try…"

"You are so sick."

"And you love me that way."

"And your mind is so twisted."

Fuji gripped loosely, then began to pump excruciatingly slowly. "Mm, yes, I guess it is, isn't it? What else do you love about me?"

"Your inability to tie better knots than me."

"Wha-"

In a smooth move, Tezuka reached down, climbing rope in loose swirls around his wrists, the silk scarf beneath it already in the process of slipping from Tezuka's wrists, and flipped Fuji beneath him.

He smirked at the shock and growing horror in Fuji's lake-blue eyes and growled seductively, "I promised you something, didn't I, Syuusuke?"

"You did?"

"Of course I did," he replied, lips moving against Fuji's softly parted lips.

With Fuji pinned beneath him, he shook the ropes and scarf from his hands. Then, fingers nimble and moving deftly, he wrapped the wine-coloured scarf around the tensai's slender wrists, following it with the climbing rope. There was one thing tensai Fuji was incapable of doing, and it was tying knots better than Tezuka, who have actually gone climbing and knew how to tie knots that could survive a rockslide.

When Fuji was trussed up like he had been only minutes earlier, he gently eased Fuji's legs apart. He hooked the tensai's legs over his shoulders and looked deep into Fuji's eyes.

"I promised that I'd make you scream." Then he swooped down and claimed Fuji with his mouth.

Fuji screamed, calling out Tezuka's name until his throat was hoarse. And then he moaned as Tezuka used his arsenal of tongue, teeth, and wet, hot mouth on him. He struggled, not really trying to get loose, but more because his body couldn't decide whether he wanted Tezuka to stop, or continue. He decided, his mind in a daze, that it was most likely both. He was unable to stop his hips from bucking wildly, thrusting into the scorching, moist cavern of Tezuka's mouth.

"N-No! Not like this!" Fuji protested.

Tezuka paused for a moment, searching Fuji's passion-glazed eyes with his own glowing golden-brown ones. "Then how?" He purred gruffly, his words gently caressing Fuji.

"With me. Together with me." He smiled tenderly, his breath coming out in a long, shuddering sigh. "Always with me."

"Since you asked so nicely…" Tezuka gently eased Fuji's legs off his shoulders and slyly slid his body slowly up the entire length of Fuji's.

"Untie me, Kunimitsu," Fuji whispered. "I want my arms around you when I come."

"I suppose we're even now…" Tezuka reached up with one hand, stretching to reach the knots while losing as little contact with Fuji as possible. Not even looking at the knots, he untied them, and soothingly massaged the faint ligature marks away. Fuji had a tendency to bruise easily. He brought Fuji's hand to his lips and kissed his knuckles.

"Ah, Kunimitsu…" Fuji stroked Tezuka's cheek with the back of his fingers. Then he tangled one hand into the thick, pale honey-brown silk that was Tezuka's hair. He brought Tezuka's face to his own, drawing random swirling patterns over Tezuka's back as they kissed long and slow.

Fuji tilted his hips as Tezuka ground against him, and the tip of Tezuka's erection slid into him. He moaned into Tezuka's mouth, the sound a barely audible muffle. Slowly and carefully, Tezuka slid the rest of his length into Fuji, holding the tensai close as he shuddered from the intensity of the sensations rocketing wildly within him. Fuji, in return, kissed Tezuka like it was his last day to live.

Tezuka started off painfully slow, managing to get himself under enough control before he did what his body want him to do; which was claim Fuji with a hard thrust and take it from there. Instead, his movements were measured, almost leisurely, as Fuji kissed him with desperation.

His name was like a chanted litany on Fuji's lips and after awhile, the combination of Fuji's kisses and sobbing cries and scent was too much and he sped up his thrusts. He buried his face into Fuji's hair, damp and swept in every direction, breathing in his scent as he thrust harder and deeper and faster. Fuji lifted his hips slightly, moving to meet every, single thrust.

And just when Tezuka thought he could take it no longer, he felt Fuji clench all around him. He came, crying Fuji's name, and Fuji joined him a fraction of a heartbeat later.

Tezuka didn't know how long had passed since they had spent themselves, but decided that it had been long enough. He was pretty heavy, and he was also sprawled all over Fuji. He managed to muster up enough energy to roll off Fuji and pull the drained tensai over him instead. Fuji shifted a bit to make himself a bit more comfortable, then lay bonelessly on Tezuka.

"Syuusuke," Tezuka murmured, smiling softly as he absently stroked Fuji's hair absently. "My Syuusuke…"

"Mm, yours," Fuji agreed, his words slurred with approaching sleep. "And you're mine, 'Mitsu. All mine."

"No question about that." He reached off the bed and scrounged around the floor by the edge of the bed for the blanket. He snagged a corner of it, then tugged it over them.

"By the way, I think I should let you know that kaa-san isn't coming back home tonight until very late. She and tou-san have a dinner function on." Fuji inhaled deeply, carrying Tezuka's scent into his lungs. "We can sleep without having to worry."

"You planned this, didn't you?"

"Mm," Fuji hummed sleepily. "Me?"

"I'm too tired to argue with you." Tezuka brushed his lips over Fuji's. Fuji sighed with contentment and responded in kind drowsily.

Fuji fell asleep almost instantaneously, exhausted. Tezuka could tell by the steady breathing and the slack, peaceful features. He was only too happy to join Fuji in worn-out slumber. And then, he fell asleep, a faint smile gracing features that was austere in waking.


	3. chapter 3

A full week had passed before Kikumaru, Momoshiro and Echizen stopped looking at him like he had grown three heads. Tezuka had begun to think that the only way he was going to get them to behave normally again, was to make them run laps until their legs were ready to fall off.

For once, neither he nor Fuji were going to each other's house. He had a test the day after the next, and Fuji didn't want to risk distracting him, even though the chance of Tezuka failing anything was close to that of Fuji failing anything. And that was nil.

The clubroom was deserted now, everyone long since gone. Only Tezuka and Fuji were left. They were packing up their things, before Tezuka locked up the clubroom for the day. He was all packed, and was waiting for Fuji to finish folding his jersey. The tensai smoothed most of the wrinkles from his folded clothes, and carefully placed them in his tennis bag. When said bag was zipped shut, Fuji stood up.

"Study hard, ne, 'Mitsu?" Fuji whispered into his ear. "I'll be thinking of you." He picked up his tennis bag from the floor and swung it onto his shoulder. "Especially tonight," he breathed, hot breath tickling Tezuka's ear. "When I touch myself before I sleep."

Tezuka turned sharply to glare at Fuji, even as he went rock hard from the thought and Fuji's words spoken in that husky drawl. "I thought the reason for you not coming over was to make sure you don't distract me?"

"Oh," Fuji demurred. "Was I distracting you?"

Tezuka sighed. "Go home, Fuji." He gave the mischievously-smiling tensai a gentle nudge towards the door.

"Mou," Fuji complained with a sexy pout. "No goodbye kiss?"

"You'll be the death of me, I swear." He leaned forward and planted a tender kiss on Fuji's lips. It was chaste and sweet, and before Fuji had any time to deepen the kiss into something a bit less innocent, Tezuka pulled away. "I'll see you in school tomorrow."

"Alright, then." It caught Fuji by surprise when Tezuka calmly took the tensai's hand and enveloped it in his slightly bigger one. Tezuka walked out the door, Fuji beside him, and dug in his pocket for the clubroom key.

Fuji held up his free hand and jingled the missing keys. "Looking for something, 'Mitsu?"

"The smart ones are always the felons," Tezuka muttered, and grabbed the keys from Fuji. "Stop picking my pockets."

"Why? It's so much fun?"

Tezuka slipped the key back into his pocket, although not very sure if that location was safe to keep things anymore. He didn't let go of Fuji's hand, but steered the tensai towards the school gates. Fuji was happy to leave it that way. It wasn't often that Tezuka showed outwards signs of affection. He decided to slip Tezuka's house keys back into his pocket, since his buchou was being such a sweet boyfriend.

They met up at the fast food restaurant again, as had become their habit. If they had been girls, it would simply have been called a gossip outing. But, as things were, they were _not_ girls. They were Kikumaru, Echizen, and Momo.

"I still get nightmares," Momoshiro muttered as he unwrapped a cheeseburger.

"Daigoro keeps them at bay." Kikumaru snagged Ryoma's cup of soft drink and took a deep swallow. "Actually, Fuji's been looking really happy—happier than I've ever seen him."

"Good. Now can we please _stop_ talking about this?" Ryoma asked. "I'd rather not remember that day."

Kikumaru glared at him. "If I recall correctly, Ochibi, you at least were spared the audio and visual aspects of that day."

Ryoma averted his golden gaze. "This is all Inui-senpai's fault." He grabbed his drink back from Kikumaru and scowled at his cup.

"I wonder what he did with the photos."

"Hmph ookh mphodos?" Momoshiro said, mouth full of half-chewed burger.

Kikumaru looked at him quizzically. "Hoi?" He rolled his eyes. "Don't talk with your mouth full, nya, Momo. You might choke." His eyes widened. "I really _am_ turning into Oishi!" He said with horror.

Ryoma snickered. "Momo-senpai said, 'he took photos?' Kikumaru-senpai, did he _really_ take photos?"

Kikumaru sighed with great feeling. What that great feeling was, even _he_ didn't know for sure. I might have been utter fear, foreboding, or simple regret of folly. "He took photos. I do _not _need to know what he captured—in fact, I might probably go blind if I saw any of them, nya!"

"But the question, senpai-tachi," Ryoma said solemnly. "Is what is he going to do with those photos?"

Tezuka had one textbook on his lap, and another recommended text on his desk. His notebook was opened out before him, as he copied important segments from textbook to notebook. His phone rang, but he didn't hear it. It was only when he felt his finger beginning to cramp that he decided he needed a break. He marked his place in the books and stacked them up neatly on his desk. And then his cell phone rang again.

Tezuka glanced at the screen. Apparently, Fuji had called four times already. The current call was his fifth attempt. He pressed the 'answer call' button and held the phone to his ear.

"What is it, Fuji?"

"What kind of greeting is that? Mou, Tezuka, what is the point of having a cell phone if you don't even answer it?"

Tezuka reached beneath the bridge of his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose wearily. "I'm talking to you now, aren't I?" He glanced at his watch, amazed when he saw the time, that he was still up. "It's late."

"Yes, it is, so what are _you_ still doing up?"

"How am I supposed to answer that?" Tezuka sat on the edge of his bed and rolled his shoulders in an attempt to ease the tension from them. When that didn't work very well, he simply flopped back and stared at his ceiling.

"You work too hard, sometimes, 'Mitsu," Fuji murmured, concerned. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. A bit stiff, maybe, from copying down notes, but nothing that will kill me." He removed his glasses and covered his face his one hand. He hadn't known how exhausted he really was until Fuji had called him.

"You sound utterly worn out, 'Mitsu. Have you eaten?"

"I think so." He shut his eyes and listened to the soothing sound of Fuji's voice. He stopped listening to the words, hearing only the soft, gentle melody of it.

"Tezuka? 'Mitsu? Kunimitsu!"

"Huh? Wha-"

He heard Fuji sigh on the other end. "I said that it's unlikely that you'll get anything below an 'A' for your test and to go to sleep."

"I'd rather get full marks than merely an 'A', thank you." He sat up—a little too quickly, and felt rather ill for a moment—and then tried to unbutton his shirt with one hand. Failing which, he said, "Fuji, could you hold on a moment?"

"Sure, why?"

"It's not very easy to remove a shirt with one hand when your fingers are no longer cooperating with your brain."

Over on his end, Fuji blinked. "And why are you taking off your shirt, 'Mitsu?"

"Because I'm still in my uniform."

Well _that_ was a definite surprise. "Tezuka, you've been home for _how_ long, already, and you're _still_ in your uniform? Are you _sure_ you've eaten?" Fuji was very worried when all he heard on the other end was silence. "Tezuka, are you there?"

There was a faint rustling, for which Fuji was glad. It meant that Tezuka was still conscious. It was infuriatingly worrying the way Tezuka pushed himself. After a while, he heard Tezuka on the phone again.

"Fuji-"

"Tezuka Kunimitsu, if you _ever_ do that to me again, I promise-"

"What did I do?" Tezuka asked, his voice languid.

"Kami-sama, I thought you had fainted from hunger or exhaustion or something." There was a pause. "I really thought something had happened to you," he said softly. "Sometimes you push yourself too hard. You don't know when to stop, and you end up getting hurt."

"I was only changing out of my uniform, Syuusuke."

"You need someone to take care of you."

"Are you applying?" Tezuka dragged the blanket over his body and snuggled deeper into the warmth. He yawned deeply.

Fuji smiled gently. "Maybe I am."

"Tell me a story."

There was silence on the other end as Fuji absorbed what he had just heard. "Pardon?"

"Tell me a story, Syuusuke. Surely you know a few."

Fuji chuckled. A very sleepy Tezuka was proving to be very loveable. "Of course I do. Yuuta sometimes had nightmares, and I told him a few so that he could go to sleep again."

"Hm, tell me one." Fuji thought, absently, that Tezuka sounded fresh from a bout of sex; sleepy, sexy, a little confused, and very, _very_ accommodating.

"Alright then," Fuji murmured. "All comfy in your bed, 'Mitsu?"

"Any more and I'd be asleep already."

"Now, now, patience." Fuji switched off his room lights and crawled beneath his own blankets. He cradled the phone against he ear as he lay back onto his pillow. "Long ago, when magical creatures still roamed the land, there was a very handsome young prince called Yukishiro. His parents had died years ago, and he was under the care of his evil stepmother."

"Your story doesn't sound very right, Fuji."

"Are you telling this story or me?"

"Go on."

"Very well. As I was saying, the bishounen prince Yukishiro was under the supposed care of his evil stepmother, the queen. Now his stepmother was actually quite a beautiful woman, but she was growing old, and naturally, she wasn't looking any better, as the years passed. Now Yukishiro was still a teenager and was growing more and more handsome with each year. And his stepmother also grew increasingly jealous.

"His stepmother was in possession of an enchanted mirror. The mirror was able to reply truthfully to any question posed to it. And every day, Yukishiro's stepmother asked the same question. One fateful day, she asked that question, and she had just developed a pimple that very morning. The mirror, unable to lie, said, 'Fair of face, though you might be, Yukishiro is the fairest that my eyes can see.' Upon hearing this, the queen was enraged, and livid with jealousy. As if it wasn't enough that she had to see herself growing uglier as Yukishiro grew more handsome. Now he had actually managed to overtake her in the looks department. She bellowed for her henchmen, and told them to drag Yukishiro to the forest and kill him."

"Mm, kind of petty, Fuji."

"That's why she's called an _evil_ stepmother, 'Mitsu. What good is an evil stepmother who's good?" Fuji chuckled when all Tezuka said was a slurred 'hn'. He shifted a bit, fluffing his pillow, and then settled back in his comfy nest.

"But back to my story. The henchmen, while loyal to the queen, loved the gentle prince very much, for he was always nice to them. So while they _did_ spirit him away to the forest, once deep within the cover of the trees, they freed him and told him never to return to the castle, since it was the queen herself who wanted him dead. He agreed, not out of fear of the queen, but rather because his return would mean the failure of the henchmen to have done their duty, and he didn't want them getting in trouble, especially after they had gone out of their way to keep him safe.

"Now, Yukishiro had always enjoyed a relatively plush life, mainly because the dead king's money had been put into various trust funds that the stepmother was unable to lay her hands on. But that didn't mean that he didn't know how to rough it. He searched high and low for a cavern or some sort, or a hole that he could use as shelter for the coming night. He couldn't find any. But just as he had given up hope, he stumbled across a small clearing, in which sat a pleasant cottage.

"He peeked through one of the windows. The cottage was dark, and with the fading light, he couldn't really make out if there were any people inside, but he decided to take his chances anyway. So Yukishiro performed the first B & E attempt of his life-" He paused when he heard a faint snickering from Tezuka's end. "Got a problem with my story, Kunimitsu?"

"Uh, no." But he snickered again. But hearing his laughter—even if it wasn't _quite_ laughter—was good enough for Fuji, and he continued his story.

"_Anyway_, Yukishiro broke into the dark cottage and found that it was empty. He lit the oil lamps inside and found that it was a total _mess_. Deciding that since he was going to impose on whoever lived here, he might as well help with the chores, so he picked the dirty clothes off the floor and put them into the ignored basket labelled 'Laundry'. The sink was full of unwashed pots, pans, bowls, dishes, and cutlery. Yukishiro wondered just how the people living there could possible cook anything if all the kitchen utensils were unwashed."

"Take-out," Tezuka mumbled.

Fuji sighed. "Tezuka, what kind of fairy tale has take-out food?"

"The same kind that has kings and princes with trust funds."

"Well, there _isn't_ any take-out for them. 'Mitsu, how am I supposed to tell my story if you keep interrupting?"

"Well, if you'd actually _stick_ to conventional-"

Fuji grinned. "But you know how _un_conventional I am, 'Mitsu. Saa, where was I in my story?"

"The improbability of the inhabitants being able to cook with all the cooking and eating implements in the sink, unwashed," Tezuka mumbled.

"Ah, yes. So since he knew that he would get hungry eventually, he also began washing the dirty dishes. It took him a _very_ long time, and by the time he was done, Yukishiro was really tired. He found almost a dozen beds in the second floor of the cottage, and decided to take a nap in one of them."

"Is this a parody of Snow White or Goldilocks?" Tezuka asked, sleepy, but too curious to actually fall asleep.

"Tezuka, this isn't called a bedtime story for nothing. It's supposed to put you to sleep, not keep you up."

"Well, how am I supposed to sleep when I keep wondering which fairy tale you've bastardized."

Fuji rolled his eyes. "What if I told you that I'm just making it up as I go along?"

"And are you?"

"Honestly, 'Mitsu, I have no idea if I should just hang up right now or not." Fuji lay back against his pillows sulking in the dark. "After all, what's the point of me staying on if you won't even let me continue my story in peace?"

"To amuse me?"

"_You_ want to be amused?" Fuji gave an incredulous laugh. "Amazing, Tezuka, I learn new things every day."

"Go on, I promise I'll interrupt less."

"Alright then. So anyway, Yukishiro fell asleep in one of the beds, and he was woken up by a loud screech. Thinking that it was a burglar, he grabbed the nearest available thing and ran downstairs. The lights, however, were on, and having just woken up, the bright lights blinded him momentarily, and he dropped what he was holding—which turned out to be a wooden frame with a cloth-bound handle and strings laced across its face."

"You could just say that it was a tennis racket, Syuusuke."

"Tennis rackets aren't supposed to exist in fairy tales, like take-out meals."

"Then why'd you put it in?"

"Because I play tennis, 'Mitsu." Fuji shrugged, not caring that Tezuka certainly couldn't seem him. "Back to the story, Yukishiro dropped the racket, and when he was finally able to see once more, he found himself looking at eight rather surprised people. One of them, for some reason, was crying. 'My juices…all poured down the drain… My poor, poor juices…' But the others looked pretty relieved at that, so Yukishiro didn't bother to feel too bad about it. Apparently the contents of some of the pots had been wanted after all.

"The one who was crying had thick glasses and spiky black hair that resembled a strange fruit found only in the mystical land known as Asia. The one who was trying to comfort the crying one, despite the fact that it was _definitely_ relief on his face, wore an oddly-patterned headscarf and made strange hissing noises. Another had light brown hair, and he had picked up the racket that Yukishiro had dropped. But upon picking up that racket, he suddenly became loud and brash, and very, _very_ aggressive. It took the combined efforts of another black-and-spiky-haired person, a redhead with a small bandage on his cheek, and someone whose head rather resembled and egg, to pry the racket out of his hands. And once that racket had been removed, he was placid once more.

"There were only two others, and both were calmly taking in all the action—one with amusement, the other with exasperation. The amused one had some sort of white head covering with the letter 'R' on it. He was happily watching all that was going on, occasionally taking a sip from a canteen engraved with the word 'Ponta'. Chaos ensued until the remaining one shouted 'Ten laps around the cottage, _now_!' The others reluctantly left the cottage, muttering and grumbling and generally blaming each other for the punishment.

"That left Yukishiro alone with that lone man. He had hair between blonde and brown, and wore glasses. His face, stern and solemn, showed no change whatsoever whether he was watching the others make a fool of themselves, dealing out punishment, or facing down an intruder. Yukishiro decided that he was one of the coolest people he'd ever met—not that he'd met many people outside the castle.

"And then the stern-faced man spoke. 'Who are you, and what are you doing I'm this cottage?' For a moment, Yukishiro didn't know what to say. After all, he couldn't very well say 'I'm a prince who has escaped from death thanks to the loyal henchmen of my evil and murderous stepmother who turned out not to be so loyal after all and I broke into this cottage because I need shelter for the night and you should let me stay because I cleared up this pig-sty of a house until I was so exhausted that I fell asleep in one of your beds.' Instead, he shrugged and said, 'My name's Yukishiro, and I'm lost.'

"The lone man only said 'hn' and they waited for his friends to return from their ten laps around the house. When everybody was back inside, and settled down, the stern one who was obviously their leader of some sort, stood up and said, 'This is Yukishiro. He's lost and needs a place to stay for the night. It would seem that he's the one who cleared up the mess all of you left in the house, and threw away Inui's juice.' At the mention of the fate of the juice, the one who had previously been crying began crying anew. The others simply cheered and praised their god for divine intervention."

Fuji realised that Tezuka hadn't interrupted him for quite awhile now, and he wondered if his boyfriend had finally fallen asleep. "Tezuka? 'Mitsu?" Ah, so he _had_. Fuji smiled tenderly. "After several days, Yukishiro managed to integrate himself into that household, and they lived happily ever after in that forest, except on days when Inui had new juices to test out. And then Yukishiro's evil stepmother died, and Yukishiro was able to go back home, and he brought his new friends along to the castle, where they all lived the rest of their lives in affluent comfort and peace. The end."

Fuji waited for a moment, just to check if Tezuka was really asleep. When he heard nothing, he murmured, "Oyasumi, 'Mitsu," and hung up. He fell asleep with a faint smile on his face, and dreamt of a fair prince and a stoic bespectacled woodsman.

Tezuka woke up the next morning refreshed and in an amazingly chipper mood, despite how late he'd slept the night before. _Last night…_ He gave a small, brief laugh. Fuji's story had bordered in absurd. He vaguely recalled having heard Fuji describe Inui, as well as Kaidoh. Anything beyond that, he couldn't recall. Or he'd fallen asleep sometime around then.

He dressed and packed his bag for school, having forgotten to do so last night, and went down for breakfast. His mother met him at the foot of the stairs with a curious smile on her face.

"Why, Kunimitsu, you look very happy this morning. Did you have a nice sleep?"

Tezuka blushed ever so faintly. "Yes, I had a restful night."

"Ah, that's nice to hear. I was afraid you'd be stressed out over that test of yours tomorrow," she replied, laying out the family's breakfast.

"I'll be okay," he assured her. "It's only a test. I've studied for it, so it should be no problem."

His mother chuckled and set his meal before him. "I know you'll do well, you always do. I just worry when you stress yourself out needlessly, like last night." She patted his shoulder. "If you ever have a problem or something that troubles you, Kunimitsu, you can always talk to me about, okay?"

"Hai, kaa-san." He finished his breakfast, and in an uncharacteristic display of affection, gave his mother a very brief peck on the cheek before leaving the house.

With a rather tearful smile, she touched her cheek. It _had_ to be that Fuji boy. She hadn't seen her Kunimitsu in such a good mood since he first found tennis. She wondered when Kunimitsu would bring that lovely boy home for dinner. She'd make him just about anything for dinner, for putting that lightness in her little boy's step. And for that little kiss.

The clubroom was bustling with activity by the time Tezuka reached it. He was usually early, but had been detained by a teacher who had needed some help bringing books and assignments back to the staff lounge. Most of the club members knew the routine warm ups and left to begin without having to be told. Those who didn't were dragged off by their friends. Their buchou looked to be in a fairly pleasant mood, but there was no need to actually test it out. Soon, only Fuji, Inui and himself were left in the clubroom.

"I have a new juice to test out today," Inui said, taking a thermos out of his locker. "Want to try some?" He asked them.

Tezuka looked at the thermos, and then thought about the time he'd accidentally drunk from Inui's bottle. He shook his head. "I'll pass," he muttered, suppressing a shudder of disgust.

"I think I'll try some," Fuji replied with his trademark smile. "What's it called?"

"Inui's Super Great Burning Juice. I got the idea from Kawamura, since this juice is designed to increase strength and maximise swinging power. It's also supposed to make you feel more energetic." Inui uncapped the thermos and poured out a small cupful. He handed the cup to Fuji, who took it without question.

"How apt," he said, and showed it to Tezuka. "It's such a beautiful shade of vermillion, don't you think?"

Tezuka eyed the dubious contents warily, not bothering to point out to Fuji the fact that it seemed to be boiling over without the help of a heat source. He took a closer look and saw that the fiery orange was swirled with hints of chrome yellow and cherry red. It was a thing to be feared. "Uh, if you think so," he muttered.

Fuji took a sip, a bit more cautious now, due to the Aozu incident, but finished off the rest when nothing happened after a second, post-consumption. "It's nice. What's inside?" Tezuka thought briefly that he didn't want to know, but since Inui began rattling out the ingredients, he had no choice but to find out.

_Lime, carrots—that's not too bad.__ Wait a minute. Bay leaves? Who puts bay leaves into juice? Red bell peppers? Lentil powder? Curry powder! Dried chilli! There's mustard in this! Kami-sama, there's _wasabi_ as well? No wonder Fuji likes it._ He grabbed his racket from where it was leaning against the wall. Inui was just taking out one of his prized data notebooks when Fuji accidentally jostled him. He fumbled, eventually catching the notebook, but a plain white envelope fell out, and several photographs spilled out from it.

Ever-helpful, Fuji apologized and bent down to retrieve the photos and envelope. Inui realised belatedly exactly what was inside that envelope and tried to stop Fuji, but the tensai had already picked one up. Inui froze and immediately glanced at the clubroom door. It was closed. Opening it to flee would take approximately 0.36 seconds. Running to the door would first take at least 2 .19 seconds. Considering that both Tezuka _and_ Fuji were in the room, he calculated his chances of escape.

He came up with 0.469 percent.

"Inui?"

Inui heard the sweetness in Fuji's voice and knew that he was beyond dead. Deciding that a chance, no matter how slim, was still a chance, he raced for the door. But Fuji was already there, the tensai having figured out that Inui would take his chances no matter how small they were. He glanced at the photograph in his hand, then back at Inui.

"Did you take this?"

Inui looked back at the lockers and found Tezuka scooping up the rest of the fallen photographs. He saw his buchou stiffen and turn red, then flip through the photos—both the ones that had fallen out and the ones that had remained within the envelope.

_Oh shit._

He turned back to Fuji. He saw those smiling eyes slowly open to reveal ominous azure blue. That smile—before cheerful and accommodating—was now menacing and full of dark promise.

"Did you?"

What else could he say? If he lied, Fuji would know. He sighed. "Yes."

"Inui, explain yourself." Tezuka's voice was vibrating with barely suppressed fury, and Inui knew that he'd be lucky to escape with only a thousand laps. If he escaped at all.

But then an angel threw open the door with an energetic smile, and a strip of bandage on his cheek. "Inui, we're waiting for-"

Eiji barely had enough time to notice the photos in Fuji and Tezuka's hands, before Inui barrelled out of the clubroom. He saw the dark look on Tezuka's face and the sadistic promise in Fuji's eyes and knew. He wisely chose the cowardly option and ran for his life. Thanks to his Seal Step, he just managed to make it to the tennis court before he heard the thunderous bellow.

"EVERYBODY RUN ONE HUNDRED LAPS _NOW_!"


End file.
